In the Ice Garden
by Lady Mondragon
Summary: Living in a frozen wasteland, the ice queen of nothing who dreams of being human, hosts an exiled prince with plans of making him her dinner. But things never go like they should, now do they? Zutara. Rated M for dark imagery and concepts.
1. Exile

Happy Birthday F.O.G!

For Nightfall 2525. If you're still reading my silly stories.

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In a dark, damp room, resembling a hot, dingy cell, a young man sits on a large bed. His face is wrapped in bandages which are damp from an odd mixture of salve, human effluence and tears. The noxious mixture of these radiates a pungent odor which nauseates the attendants charged with changing his wrappings, cringing at the sight of his disfigured form, at least three times a day. _So this is the price for defying father, _he sobs gently into the soft gauze which gently envelops his face like a gossamer web, long abandoned by its creators, _this burn, and exile to the South Pole._

The South Pole. A war was fought there many years ago, but it was a pyrrhic victory. Under his uncle, The Dragon of the West and Admiral Zhao, the frozen climes of the South succumbed to the Fire Nation. However, they would soon learn that holding on to that chunk of ice drained their "defense" budget, weakening their war efforts in more profitable parts of the world. And so, with great secrecy the Fire Nation's presence in its tributary state was withdrawn, leaving behind the raw memory of atrocities committed by the army of fire. _I will live there until I die. _

The thought pangs his heart. He'll have to leave home, his mother, his uncle, everything and everyone he loves. At his young age he has suffered much, mostly at the hands of his father, who has fooled him into thinking he can win his love. Though now a man of one and twenty, the prince is still too naïve to understand that love is freely given, never won.

_I will show him that I am a man worthy of the throne…and his love._ But he is hopeless as these bitter words spread through his body like hot venom. _I will live in the South Pole for seven years, I'll show him!_ His body shakes with resolve, but he has never doubted himself so much. Left to himself in the crushing darkness of his room, he cries himself to sleep in desolation. As soon as his face heals, he must abandon the only life he has known, the life of a prince.

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Despite the careful ministrations of the medics and the servants, a hideous red scar forms. All mirrors are kept away from the prince's golden eyes, but it is only a matter of time before he catches his reflection somewhere. Gently, he touches the disfigured side of his face, fighting back the tears welling up his right eye, finding he cannot cry with his left. _If I cannot cry with my left eye, then I will not cry at all._ He swallows his tears and his anguish, tucking them away from the world. _I will never cry again._

A few days after his bandages are permanently removed he sails to the South Pole on a lonely boat of exile, with only a skeleton crew and his uncle to man the vessel. It is obvious from the old man's morose silence that his heart is breaking. The prince knows, yet does nothing to comfort him, for he too is despondent.

Soon they reach the small village port of their frigid destination. Really it isn't much of a town, more like a supply depot, where the few goods produced on the region are displayed for local consumption. Zuko looks around for local weaponry, disappointed to find none of it is made out of metal. _No wonder they lost the war._ He walks around the other tables aimlessly, too distracted with his impending doom to really care. Noticing his nephew's lack of focus, his uncle intervenes, helping him shop for the necessary supplies that will prove to be his lifeline if only for a short period of time.

It is only now, during this shopping expedition, that the stoic prince sees his uncle's mood lighten, if only slightly and his heart is glad, though it may only be for the few moments they have with each other. Both men know, he has been sent to this frozen wasteland to meet his death, but the prince is determined to survive his father's punishment and return to the palace of his birth, if only to hear a single word of praise. Certainly now Azula will be the next in the line of succession and his hope of regaining his birthright is lost.

All the supplies are loaded onto Zuko's rein-elk and there is nothing left but for Zuko to walk his uncle back to the ship. They walk in silence. The sound of ice crunching beneath their feet is their only indication that they are not lost in some incorporeal spirit realm. _Say something._ Right before they reach their destination, they spot a local trade post that serves hot meals. Nephew and Uncle turn to each other. They exchange silent glances and enter for a cup of tea.

They sit in uncomfortable silence. He is not the type to show his feelings, so he decides now is the time to exercise his small talk skills, if only to deny the pain of their impending separation.

"So Uncle Iroh, where do you think I should go during this year?" _Not like it matters, it's one giant ice cube._ "I know you've been here before. Is there anything interesting to see?" _Maybe they have a snow museum or something_.

"I don't know, Zuko. It's been so long, though I do remember hearing about a beautiful garden. Now what was the town it was in called...they used to serve great tea…" A bright sparkle emanates from the old man's eyes as he strolls down the worn, dusty lanes of his memory. "I know," he grins broadly. "It was in the village of Irkuk!"

The young man nods, trying hard to enjoy the rest of his tea, but the knots in his stomach, make it hard to swallow each drink he takes. Too soon for his taste, his mentor will leave him to begin his lonely exile. They continue to chat, but the young man cannot focus. All he hears are bits and pieces of Iroh's invaluable advice on how to survive the cold. After all, he had fought a war in the polar circles, many moons ago.

"Never go out before a blizzard," he warns, unaware of his nephew's sporadic attention. "Even your firebending will not save you from the snow." Deep furrows form on the man's forehead as he thinks about what he will say next, especially to a man of Zuko's temperament.

Long ago, during the war he commanded, one of his lieutenants had reported to him about this wealthy village with an interesting problem. Apparently, there was a war raging between a vampire lord who controlled large oil deposits and the local villagers. At the sound of "oil" the village's value to the Fire Nation became clear and plans were drawn for its conquest. It would be like any other frozen village they had absorbed.

In the battle for its conquest, the village was razed, but an odd little girl was left behind with a few survivors who had hidden in the snow drifts. Even Lieutenant Zhao, the most bloodthirsty of his men, could not vanquish her, for her waterbending skills were unmatched. She was dangerous and probably full grown vampire by now. If Zhao, a master firebender with a killer instinct could not defeat her, Zuko would stand even less of a chance.

"Zuko, there is a woman in Irkuk, don't go near her..."

But Zuko does not really listen since he is too busy engraving his sonorous voice along with every wrinkle and jowl into the deepest recesses of his memory. _I hope to see you again uncle. _He wishes to be more certain of his ability to survive, but after the Agni Kai with his father, his last bastion of self confidence is gone, leaving behind an empty shell in his father's image.

All stalling is coming to an end. The deliberate drinking of the last of his tea, has served its purpose of prolonging the last familial contact he will have in a long time, and the tattered remains of prince's rent heart create a violent tattoo in his chest in anticipation of the pain he will suffer. The time has come. _At least I know where I'm going,_ he ponders, trying to find comfort in excitement of the coming journey. Looking into his uncle's golden eyes, Zuko finds strength to wave the last of his goodbyes, as he sets off for a place he's never heard of before, amidst the whispers and stares of all the tea shop patrons. _I will survive._

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A tall, thin woman walks the lonely, silent halls of her icy fortress, floating about in a calm cadence, like a specter long forgotten. Fresh blood, bright crimson in color stains her lips, dribbling from the corners of her down-turned mouth onto the white, sateen sheath she wears before laying in her coffin, which is lined with soft furs dyed blue, indicative of her lineage. Two blue eyes, hollow and hopeless are the jewels that grace her sorrowful face, framed by a cascade of chestnut tresses. Her mocha colored skin radiates a supernatural sheen, creating an illusion of smooth perfection akin to the finest porcelain from the Earth Kingdoms. The soft curves of her body are guilty of enticing and seducing countless young men out of menacing blizzards into her lethal embrace; lost young men who have sought food and shelter but received much more, naively mistaking the spasms of death for those of incredible carnal pleasure.

Yet for all her beauty, softness and grace, she is still a vicious predator; a role she is reluctant to fill, but cannot escape. Long, blood stained fingernails, filed to a fine point and teeth sharp as razors are a painful reminder of what she truly is. It is her lineage, her inheritance, passed to her by her mother and father before her, who inherited the trait from their parents. For the rest of eternity, this will be her blessing and her curse. _Time is immaterial when your ageless, but why must I be alone forever? _She wishes to cry at the thought, but holds back her tears. The blind attendant, who sees all and knows all, is behind her. Gauging from her protector's silence, she knows something is awry.

_Wo bist du?_

"Yes Kira?" _Please don't tell me the summer is here. I do not wish to be a prisoner in my home…not just yet._

"Mistress Katara, your familiars have just informed me that there is a young man approaching the fortress. What are your instructions? The blind girl looks at the beautiful revenant unblinkingly.

"Tell them I will join them in a few minutes. If what they say is true, I will want to see him myself." _It has been so long since I've had human company._

"Very well my lady." The young woman bows before leaving her mistress' presence, but pauses in mid-step. "My lady, do be careful. It may be another hunter." Her jaw clenches at the thought. Kira hates hunters. They are always trying to hurt her savior, the woman she has sworn to protect with her life.

"Don't worry Kira, I'll be careful. I won't stray too far from the pack." _Besides, I smell nothing, so that's probably what it is. _Her voice is sweet and reassuring, easing the green-eyed guardian's fears. All she can do is nod, hoping the pack is enough to protect her in case the man is indeed a hunter.

Cleaning the blood from her lips, she changes into her parka, pulling her dark hair into a tight chignon. There is not much time to waste. Though she cannot smell the man that approaches, she can definitely smell the impending blizzard. A soft sigh escapes her lips. _How ironic. I shall try to save him now, only to kill him later._

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Merciless arctic winds, howl all around him, whipping across his scarred face like a thousand little needles, piercing and ripping through his flesh. All attempts to warm up via firebending are vanquished by the inclement, icy winds, which penetrate his bones. _Of all times for you to be right Uncle,_ Zuko mutters under his breath. He has been traveling for weeks, all he wants is to find shelter before his frostbitten fingers fall off, or the storm matures, destroying his remaining hopes of surviving long enough to recount his travels through this frigid, forgotten, part of the world. _Dear Agni_, _I would like to live to see Uncle again if only to hear him tell me "I told you so."_

The darkness surrounds him like the mouth of a ravenous wolf. Straining his eyes against the newly fallen night, he sees something that gives him hope. Up ahead, the dim lights of a tall dark building travel to meet his eyes. Vaguely he makes out some sort of makeshift village behind the snow drifts up ahead flanking this looming structure. _I'm saved._ A pack of wolves can be heard howling in the far distance, too far for him to worry. _They're probably just wolf-seals and they fear fire._

Quickening his mount's pace, he approaches, discerning the shape of the building. _What's a fortress made of stone doing here?_ Thankfully the war between the Fire Nation and the South Pole has ended, though he dreads bearing the brunt of the anger they still feel for his people's conquest, again. Everywhere he stops he is unwelcome and his mark of dishonor stared at. Sometimes he encounters physical violence. Regardless, he knows more harm will come to him from the storm than whatever soldiers are stationed there. Even though he may be spent, the hope he feels at finding life in the middle of this barren land gives him a boost of strength.

As he descends into the valley created by the majestic drifts, he stops. _Spirits! _When these animals now surrounding him did so escapes his attention, but the hungry flashes in their yellow, feral eyes does not. He is inside a circle of large arctic wolves, the rarest and most feared predator of this barren land. There is something unsettling about these animals. _They look like people hunched on all fours._ Motionless, he stands before them, ready to stand his ground if need be, knowing they will make quick work of him, if they are so inclined. _I will not go down without a fight._

He is too busy eyeing the gray beasts around him, to notice he has caught the interest of a lone white wolf. Unlike the rest of her companions, she does not snarl at the man before her. Instead, she approaches him with great stealth and curiosity. One sniff reveals that he is not a hunter, but just a man, with wounded flesh. Seeing he is alone and obviously weak with hunger, she assumes he will be heading towards the lit fort before them. There is something particular about his scent. Something odd she has smelled on a human once before that reminds her of fire and the destruction of her home. It makes her uneasy whimpering gently to catch his attention.

Golden eyes go wide as all color drains from his face. Standing before him is the largest, white she-wolf he has ever seen. Her muzzle is stained crimson from whatever poor creature she's had for dinner, which he is certain does not exempt him from being on her menu. The bright moon above percolates through the snow-filled clouds, shining on disarming, bright blue eyes, which remind him of the blue sky on a clear summer's day in the Fire Nation. These blue eyes gaze into his golden revealing the sadness and heartache of this beast. _She seems so human._

_Ich bin so allein, will ich nicht sein._

For a brief moment suspended in time, he falls into those eyes, feeling true, soul-crushing loneliness. The spell is broken when the she-wolf sniffs the air, sharply turning her head away from him. A howl pierces the cold, night air as she dashes off in the direction of the fortress with her companions in tow. A low sigh of relief escapes the prince's chapped lips as he continues to make his way towards the village. _If I see them again, it will be too soon._

Walking through the abandoned igloos and shredded tents, he realizes this place is not a village, but a frozen tomb. All of its inhabitants abandoned their abodes, looking for respite from the constant shadows that hunted the innocent, even during the midday sun. But he is unaware, unafraid. Ignorance of the world around him is bliss. Little does he know that he has walked, hungry and weak, straight into the den of wolves.

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The lady of the fortress walks her halls in expectation of the sweet, tangy delicacy that is human blood. She has gone without its sweet taste, for too long now. Soon her servant will bring back the weary traveler and her routine of seduction and death will begin. _Why must it be this way? _It is not something she enjoys or has ever enjoyed, rather a crude tool she has created to survive.

Too many times she has brought back with her a mouse-hare or a small wolf-cub to try to keep as a pet, to lie next to in her coffin, but each time it all ends the same, in blood and whimpers of agony. Tears spill from her eyes as she rips into their helpless necks, feeling their gushing arteries throb in fear against her lips, but cannot stop until her hunger has been satiated. Cruelty is not in her make-up as it was in her father's, making her a raging failure before his eyes.

Reaching the end of the hall, she raises her eyes only to see an image of the man who decimated and desecrated the quiet village. Her mother had been hunted after giving birth to her, by one of the village elders. They waited for her to birth before exacting punishment on her for massacring a dozen children during a full moon. _Why mother, why?_ In retaliation, her father had hunted down all seven elders and their grandchildren, as though they were game. _How could you father? Some were only babies!_

A fevered clamor for revenge came from the villagers emboldened by the silence that came from the vampires' home. An attack and a dead servant are all the heiress now remembers about the bloody stalemate of death and destruction that ensued when her father's army of undead clashed against the warriors of the village. For years, sanguine colored ice and piercing screams of pain surrounded her, tormenting her soul. Their frantic crescendo only increased with the arrival of a new enemy, who capitalizing on their mutual attrition, cruelly conquered the villagers.

The sanguinary soldiers of fire are like the element they command, stopping only after they have greedily consumed everything in sight with their flaming tongues and fire spewing metal beasts. The village benders and her father's revenants cannot match them. Lamenting their fate does them no good. They know they are doomed, but fight to the last man, in an unholy alliance against an unholy enemy.

A wild eyed demon who spat fire, headed the charge that felled her father. There are only two things she remembers of this murderer: his scent which was a suffocating mix of fire and the blood of innocents, and his eyes, piercing and yellow, which have seared themselves into her soul. A shiver runs down her spine. It is all a painful memory she swallows, like a bitter potion, but she must to maintain what little sanity she has left. Of the few who were spared, most leave. The memories of their loved ones last moments of agony overpowered their lives. Only the lady and her governess remain, like statues of ancient goddesses whose names no one now remembers.

Tears fall from her eyes, but no noise comes from her. She feels her servant's presence and smells the traveler. A frigid hand wipes away all tears. Her heart fills with dread; it is time for the routine to begin. Closing her eyes in anticipation, she wishes now more than ever to be human. To feel warmth and companionship of a human, to be human, but it is not to be. Not now or ever.

_Die warmen Haende sind so kalt._

"My lady," Kira calls to her mistress, whom she knows has been crying. "A young man is here. He needs food and shelter. Will you provide?"

_The magic words have been uttered. Let the dance of death begin! _"I will provide, but are these accepted of his free will?" _Say no, say no._

Despite his weariness, Katara senses a quiet grace and strength. She can tell he is confused by the protocol, but nods speaking in a strong, steady voice, reminiscent of a prince. "I accept and thank you."

Smiling weakly, Katara nods to Kira, who takes the young man to the dining room for dinner before he can introduce himself. In situations like these, time is not an ally, so it is best to make haste. _The sooner he eats, the sooner the mistress eats._

Zuko is amazed at the size of the structure. From outside it looks small, but the inside is magnificent, as though under some sort of Water Tribe enchantment. He sits at the table and starts the fire in the pit, as the servant has requested, with a single spark of his frostbitten fingertips. All he wishes for now is food and a warm place to sleep. _What a boon! I have finally found a place to stay where I'm not stared at or judged. _

It has only been ten weeks since he started his exiled, but he has been humbled and humiliated enough to learn to be grateful of other people's generosity, where the punishment for not doing so, is the equivalent of death. Food is scarce, life is harsh, and the only way people survive here, he has learned, is by looking out for one another. _Nothing like back home_.

In the palace "thank you" was heard about as often as "I love you" which is to say never. Trust and loyalty were merely words used to describe their dragon hounds' annoying affliction. Needless to say, this ill prepared him for the world he now encounters. He knows that to survive the exile and regain his birthright, he must first survive. _If that means adapting to their way of life, so be it. _But even if he had come far, he still had a long way to go. After all, even though he was banished, he was still the prince of the Fire Nation: temperamental, ambitious and somewhat self centered.

Dinner is presented to him in an ornate fashion. He sits and waits for his beautiful host to join him, but she never comes. The green-eyed governess informs him that her mistress feels rather ill and has retired for the evening. The prince tries to hide his disappointment, but Kira sees it, if only in a roundabout way.

"Please tell her I hope she feels better in the morning." Golden eyes flash with concern.

"Oh, I have a feeling _she_ will feel rather well when the sun comes up." The macabre smile on the young girl's lips makes him feel rather uneasy, but he is a prince and must act as such.

"I am glad you think so. Thank you for the meal." The girl merely nods as the banished sovereign returns to his enticing meal, exercising tremendous self control so he does not make a gluttonous fool of himself before his host's servant. Out of the corner of his eye he sees the young girl's wicked smile as she returns to the kitchen. _What an odd place this is_, he thinks to himself, but really has no idea how prophetic those words will turn out to be.

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In her frigid bedchamber, the sad, young woman sits, changing into a beautiful white sheath, which seductively clings to her curves. Because she casts no reflection, she has no way of knowing how beautiful and tantalizing she looks. Even if she did, there are no mirrors in her room. All were destroyed many years ago, when she realized the true meaning of forever. Loosening her chignon, she allows her chestnut tresses to cascade around her face and bare shoulders.

_Die schoenen Maedchen sind nicht schoen._

Long, trembling fingers run through her hair in an attempt to smooth it. _Spirits, why am I doing this, I'm not even hungry._ But it doesn't matter. The routine has begun and must end with a sacrifice. It is what makes her brave, what numbs her to the point where she can survive. _Soon this will all be over, and Kira will bury his remains in the soft earth, where he will become an eternal part of my garden._ But for some reason, this time, she doesn't believe it.

She paces back and forth, waiting for Kira to bring _him_ in. It is good she doesn't know his name. Without a name, it is easier to pretend that he is not a person, warm flesh and blood she must destroy if she is to see another day. Gently, her hand rests upon a necklace tightly coiled around her neck, a reminder of her father's love for her mother. _I hope this makes you proud father, not that it matters now._

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Kira slides a door open, disappearing as soon as the prince crosses the threshold. Golden eyes widen and his mouth is agape. _It must be some mistake!_ Standing before him, is his host, clad in a revealing night shift that makes his heart beat a little faster. _Keep your eyes on her face, keep your eyes on her face._ Her mouth is firmly pasted into a fake smile, but her eyes cannot hide her regret and shame. _Where have I seen such lovely blue eyes?_

"Please accept my apology. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. I had no idea…I will go at once." _That Kira did this on purpose! I knew her smirk couldn't be good. _Respectfully he bows to her, but she catches his broad shoulder before he turns to leave. For a moment, they lock eyes.

"Stay." It is almost as though a siren has sung, enchanting the unsuspecting sailor into his watery grave.

A primal desire is awakened in him as his inhibitions fall away leaving only a burning need Though he has never succumbed to temptation, he finds himself trapped in his desire to know her, to own her if only for a brief period of time, to lose himself in her curves. It is hard to resist her unnatural beauty which casts a powerful spell over him, taking possession of his soul. Her cloying fragrance intoxicates him as he willingly loses himself in her lonely, blue eyes. To him, they do not look like the eyes of a predator, but appearances can be deceiving, a lesson he will learn in time.

Slowly she raises her icy hands to his beautiful but scarred face, stopping right before making contact. The routine does not allow her to caress the bare flesh of her prey until he has taken his fill of carnal pleasure from her. To do so, would severely injure him and she does not want to add that to her conscience. Instead, she is to relinquish all control to him, allowing him to think he is in charge until it is too late. _He will be no different._

Two golden eyes drink in her soft curves as his pale, warm hand gently catches her small, cold, dark one guiding it back to her side as he steps back from the chasm of lust. _I can not, will not do this. She is not well!_

With a razor sharp kiss of death, she will sever his jugular artery, digging her claws into his bare flesh so he does not move while she drains the life out of him. _I'm so sorry. I cannot help what I am. _Never does he feel it, as his orgasm dulls his pain. But she does. As soon as his body grows cold, she scrubs herself clean of his scent and fluids, forgetting her actions and preening herself for the next meal.

_Ich liebe dich. Ich liebe dich nicht. _

"I am sorry, but I cannot stay. You are not well." Silence fills the room and what little color she has drains from her face.

_But the routine…_

This creature before her, in the shape of a man, has shattered her ritual. Trying to regain her footing she fumbles, running her hands through her silky, brown locks and smiles, revealing her white, predatory teeth. _Stop smiling. He'll see you for what you are!_ A million ancestral voices scream in her head. But it is too late. Her spell is broken. Revulsion replaces the lust and concern once gleaming from his eyes. She is seen for the lonely, voracious beast she truly is.

"Are you okay?" She looks like she is about to burst at the seams with the violence of her shaking.

An internal struggle rages on, betrayed by her disconcerted features. This has never happened before. Her routine is shattered, all courage is lost. She is lost. _Forgive me father._ Recoiling from him she walks towards her fur lined bed, sitting on it. _Spirits! What do I do now? _Drowning in despair, she sobs openly, uncaring of the spectacle she is making of herself before her guest. Rocking back and forth, she shivers as she wraps her arms around herself, hoping to vanish. Never has she felt such humiliation and confusion.

Zuko stares at her in pity. It is obvious that he is not the first one to wander into her room or be tempted by her form. Soberly, he looks at her and wonders how many men have fallen to her wiles. _What number would I have been?_ The thought sickens him. He is unsure of what to do, so he stands there awkwardly until she tells him to call for her servant. Immediately, he acquiesces, but before he can call the maiden, she appears at the door, panting.

"Mistress!" She clamors, charging her way past the man before her. "Did he hurt you?" The sobbing predator shakes her head, burying her face in Kira's chest.

Two green eyes turn in the direction of the prince who blankly stares at the girl holding the sobbing woman, realizing at once she is blind. "What did you do to her?" Her tone takes a terrifying dimension which makes his flesh crawl.

_Hold your tongue, Zuko._ "I did nothing…you brought me here remember." His tone is sharp. Subconsciously, he drops into a fighting stance as the air around him begins to warm up.

"Liar!" She hisses and stands to confront him, stopping her advance when she feels a gentle hand fall on her shoulder.

"Kira," she whispers sweetly, "Please show him to his quarters. He is just a weary traveler who needs to sleep. I release him." Though she has never heard those words, the servant is fully aware of what they mean. "Oh, and Kira, tell the family to stay away, he is under my protection."

Kira nods gently, hiding her desire to throw this worthless piece of man-flesh to the wolves. Why does her lady look so deflated and humiliated? Lovingly, she brushes her mistress' hair from her eyes, lingering on the curve of her ear a little longer than is necessary. A harsh contrast to how she manhandles the object of her ire. He has done something to Katara. It is only a matter of time before she finds out what it is, and when she does, he will pay. But until then, he is under the protection of her mistress and will not be touched.

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Soft, sweet smelling furs caress his bare skin and he wonders if her touch would have been the same, but that thought vanishes as quickly as it came. Yes, she is beautiful. Yes, she is willing, but there is something menacing about her, something feral he can't quite wrap is conscious thought around. _Vampire._ Unaware of his actions, he gently strokes the sharp teeth of the bear fur he lays on, bringing his hand to his mouth when its spiked teeth break his skin. He closes his eyes letting sleep carry him away, as a lullaby sung by howling wolves plays in the background.

Pacing up and down her mistress' corridor, Kira waits for the opportunity to meet her. Surely after tonight's events she will want to go for a walk, even though the blizzard rages on. _But I will not let you. I will follow you to the ends of the earth if I have to because I…_she finds herself in front of her door as it opens.

"Kira, what are you doing outside my door?" Katara looks into her unseeing green eyes and smiles.

"Mistress Katara, I wanted to make sure you were well. I was concerned, that's all." _I'm concerned because I care for you. Why can't you see that?_

"I'm fine. I'm just going for a walk." _Please leave me alone. I need to be alone. _

"Then let me go with you." It is hard to say no to her sweet pleading tone, but she must.

"I just need to be alone for a little bit. I promise I'll stay around the perimeter. If I'm not back in an hour…" Kira frowns.

"You have an hour. If you are not back, I will send the pack to look for you, and you will never leave my sight again." It's hard to asses her seriousness when she stands hands on hips, tapping her left toe, like a scolding mother.

"An hour." Katara nods as she pulls her fur-lined hood over her head before leaving her worried guardian behind in the safety of the fortress.

When her foot touches the soft, snowy ground, the night-walking waterbender takes the form of her familiars. Long tawny legs are immediately covered in white fur as she scampers off, braving the terrible blizzard that pelts her thick fur with a million little icicles. She needs the pain. It is a fitting punishment for her failure, for her existence. His pitying eyes destroyed her dignity, her internal mechanism for survival, and if she does not find her way again, she will perish. _What am I going to do?_

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A/n

I hope you guys enjoyed this. If not, sorry.

As always comments and suggestions are greatly appreciated, but not required.


	2. Survival

The sun rises, and though the prince is shrouded in the darkness provided by the cloistered windows, his body responds to its golden rays. Well rested, the banished sovereign, readies himself for the day. The awkwardness of the night before looms over him like a hangover. _What will I say to her? Will she still let me stay?_ Slowly he makes his way down the cold, stone corridor, looking for signs of life but finds none. When he finally finds the kitchen, he sees his breakfast has been served.

The rumbling his stomach makes, echoes through the still room. Though he is hungry, he will not begin eating until he is told to do so. _I can't assume this is for me, no matter how much I may want to._ Years of military training are obvious by the way he stands at attention by the chair of the place setting, waiting for his host, for Kira, for any living creature, to give him permission to eat. Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, she comes.

_Ich liebe dich nicht mehr oder weniger als du mich geliebt hast._

A silky, chestnut mane floats freely around her shoulders, while her curves are now hidden under more modest attire. Two bright azure jewels burn brightly, reflecting the loneliness, shame and humiliation from the night before. She is still as beautiful as he remembers, but there is something different, less menacing. That frightening edge has become undetectable. He wants to speak, to say something that will ease the tension that hangs in the air, but can think of nothing. It is she who breaks the silence.

"Good morning. I hope your sleep was, unperturbed?" _Look at him Katara, it is rude to look away. _It is obvious she is not comfortable in his presence.

A vacant expression fills his face as he runs a hand through his raven-black topknot, thinking of what to say to put her at ease. "Yes, thank you. I haven't slept like that in months; since I left home." She nods, looking away from him to the kitchen door as thought she half expects a pack of wolves to tear through the door at any moment.

"You are free to lea…"

"I wanted to ask you if…"

Both speak at the same time and then there is silence. Kira's footsteps are heard coming from the kitchen, when Katara opens her mouth to speak, but he beats her to it.

"I wanted to ask you if, well I wanted to know if you needed…" He stops. _What can I possibly offer her? _

Two blue eyes narrow under a furrowed brow, but it is in confusion rather than anger. "If I needed what?" Whatever embarrassment she might have felt is replaced by a burning curiosity. _I wonder what he thinks I need?_

Two embarrassed, golden eyes avoid her steady gaze as he shifts his weight around. How the mighty have fallen; a prince reduced to begging to earn his keep. He really has no skills useful to the region and she does not seem to be in need of anything he can provide. _Think Zuko, there must be something she needs._ A thought comes to mind. _Think of something ELSE Zuko, unless you want her to throw you out of her home._

An uncomfortably long period of time passes, yet the haggard looking man has not spoken. It is as though he has forgotten how. "Are you okay?" Her head is bent slightly as a chestnut lock falls over her eye. This is the last straw. If he can't think of something now, surely she will have him put out.

"I was wondering if you needed…" An angry looking servant walks out of the kitchen, throwing him daggers with her unseeing eyes. A chill runs down his spine, but he now knows what she needs "A guard." _If only to protect you from that wild woman you call your servant._ "You do live in a remote region, far from villages. If you are ever in any distress, I can be of assistance."

Katara smirks at his proposal. _If anyone needs protection it certainly isn't me._

"She doesn't need you. That's what I'm here for!" The servant girl vociferates menacingly at the young man, who is taken aback by her tone. Zuko glares at Kira, while Katara looks at her before lowering her gaze, slightly abashed by her servant's outburst.

"Thank you for your kind proposal. I will think about it. But please know you are free to leave whenever you wish." He nods but is confused by her statement. _Why would I want to leave if I just practically begged you to let me stay...and why in Agni wouldn't I be free to leave?_

The waterbender bows gracefully before asking to be excused. It was a long night and she needs her rest. Though she is unsure if Kira will be pleasant to their guest, she at least knows he will not be hurt by her. A pair of golden eyes follows the vampire's floating figure as she leaves the room, irritating Kira further.

"So are you going to eat or aren't you." Kira practically yells at Zuko who narrows his eyes at her before sitting down to eat, relieved when she returns to the kitchen.

The sounds of breaking earthware in the kitchen are testimony of the servant's great displeasure with his intrusion. _At least she hasn't allowed him to stay. The sooner he leaves, the sooner I have my mistress all to myself again._

----------------

Two weeks pass before he sees her again. In that time Kira has been less than kind to him, meeting his basic needs of food, water and clothing, rather reluctantly. Occasionally he has been asked to gather kindling for the fire which cooks his meals, since he doesn't know how to hunt or make anything, but most of his time he spends by himself. Often, his mind wanders back to the Fire Nation, wondering if there have been any changes in his absence. _Maybe father regrets banishing me?_ _I wonder if mother misses me._

Though he does not expect a letter from any of his family members, he still longs to get one, to feel like he is part of something. _Even a letter from Azula is starting to sound good right now._ Being away from everything that is familiar to him, constantly surrounded by ice and snow, is starting to make him feel more like a phantom than a flesh and blood human. Solitude, he realizes, can be quite devastating, something his father was aware of when he banished him to the South Pole. _What I wouldn't give for uncle to be here._

Living in a cold, stone tomb, is slowly taking a toll on him. It's as though it sucks the life and will to live out of any living creature. _I wonder how long she's lived here; she doesn't look older than I am._ Imagining the torturous loneliness and despair of living under such inhuman conditions, opens a pit in his stomach. _This must be why she's so odd._ For the mistress, who's name he still does not know after two weeks, has no one but Kira, the shrew, and her 'familiars' who he is beginning to think are figments of her imagination, to keep her company.

As he makes his way down corridor a corridor he's never been down, he sees many hanging tapestries with images of people, who he assumes are her ancestors. They all have a murderous glint in their cold, blue eyes and cruel smile on their lips, even the children. At the end of the hall he gets to a tapestry that greatly resembles the current occupant of the abode. She is the only sane looking one, but instead of sporting a cruel smile on her lips, she seems to show a sad frown. If he stares long enough at it, he can almost see tears coming out of her eyes.

"Hello there." He turns to the sound of her sweet voice, nearly knocking over a small table with an ice vase in the center. He is little embarrassed that he was caught staring at her image, hiding it by focusing his efforts on steadying the table and the vase with a monstrous, oxidized-blood-red flower in it.

"Good evening mistress…"

"Katara. Please, call me Katara. I have asked Kira to do the same, but she refuses to do so. I am hoping you will use my name, so I don't forget it." The smile on her lips is quite a contrast to the last time he saw her.

"I am Pr…I am Zuko." A lifetime of training and formality has branded his honorific in his heart, mind and tongue, but until he is once again seated at the right hand of his father, he will suffer its privation.

"That is an interesting name. You are not from the Water Tribes, are you?" There is a look of fascination on her face, like that of a small child who has just been given a noisy toy.

_Surely no harm can come from telling her where I'm from. _"No. I am from the Fire Nation." The bright countenance that once looked at him grows dim and somber.

_That's why he looks so familiar. _"I met people from the Fire Nation many years ago. They…" Finishing the thought will resuscitate terrifying memories out of the tomb she deposited them in, so she looks away from him to avoid finishing her sentence. He understands her silence. Zuko is aware of his nation's history, and while not ashamed, he feels her pain wrap around his heart like a small noose.

"I'm sorry." A weak smile appears on his lips as a peace offering for her pain. Part of him feels like wrapping her in his warm embrace assuring her his people will never invade her lands again, but a darker, more rational side of him is upset by her weakness in not being able to face such haunting memories. In the end, he does nothing and waits for her to speak.

"It was many years ago. Things have changed since then. The people are now gone." In her eyes, he can see how the consequence of the Fire Nation's simple incursion has led to her lonely imprisonment. "I would like to hear more about your home…sometime." Soft pink lips stretch into a closed smile that spreads from ear to ear when he gently nods at her request. A distant look sparkles in her eyes, as one million fantastic things race through her head, creating a painful buzzing in her skull.

_I am glad that she's feeling better._ Her friendly demeanor has allowed him to compose himself enough to discuss his offer. "Katara, I just wanted to know if you had thought about my proposal." It is uncomfortable for him to hang in limbo, not knowing if the lady of the fortress has accepted his overture.

Frowning for a moment she looks at him and speaks plainly. "I don't really need a guard of any sort. For many years now, I have been living alone, well with Kira, so I know a thing or two about defending myself. And if I get stuck, my servant will be more than enough to get me out of trouble."

_How can she say such a thing? _"What if a polar-wolf pack attacks you while you're out? I don't think Kira will be enough." Two arms are crossed over his chest as he smugly glances at the young woman.

"I don't think they would attack, but if they did, then I doubt having you as an addition will change the odds much." He is visibly offended at the barb at his masculinity. It is her turn to be smug.

"I would agree with you if I couldn't do this." With a wave of his hand a bright, dancing flame appears.

She can't help but snicker. "A small flame would hardly be enough."

"This isn't all I can do." He grins like a young boy who is showing his mother what he just learned in school.

Taking a deep breath, he unleashes a torrent of fire into the hallway, setting fire to the tapestry of her image. Blue eyes widen in terror as the flaming tapestry plummets to the ground. Zuko is horrified, running to stamp out the fire that is devouring the image of the woman standing before him. _Why is it that firebenders can only start fires!_

Katara is moving away from the flames, a flood of tears streaming from her eyes as terrible memories flash before her. For a brief instant, all she can see are a pair of fell, yellow eyes, similar to those of the man frantically trying to put out the fire.

Kira runs into the hallway, snarling at the firebender as she stands between him and her lady. "What did you do now?" She screams at him in fury.

"I was…really it was…"

"It was an accident Kira." Sad blue eyes, made red with tears look at her protector.

"Mistress, you're crying." The faithful servant runs to her lady, wrapping her arms around her in a comforting gesture.

"I'm fine Kira." Gently she gets out of the young maiden's embrace as she wipes the tears from her eyes. _There is a fire to put out._

Zuko is having a hard time putting out the fire, so Katara bends the water from and in the vase, to extinguish the flames. The humiliated young man stares dumbly at his host, expecting to see two blue eyes flash with rage. Instead, he sees that she is quite rattled, staring at the pile of ashes that once was a family heirloom, but not angry. _I am dead. She will put me out for sure._ He holds his breath waiting to hear what fateful words will spill out of her lips.

"I think I'm going to go for a ride. Please excuse me." He sighs with relief, but is concerned that she is going out, late at night, with heavy snow fall. Looking over at Kira, he sees she's thinking the same thing.

"My lady, it is almost the new moon and the snow will cover your tracks. You may not be able to find your way home…" Katara loudly clears her throat, signaling there will be no discussion on the subject. It is the first time the prince sees her behave with any authority, towards Kira.

"I will get my own mount ready and return before sunrise." No other words are spoken.

Zuko stares at the white figure that vanishes down the dark corridor and breaks into a run. _I will not let her go out there by herself. It's my fault she needs to go out in the first place and I don't think I could live with myself if she got hurt._

"Where do you think you're going?" Kira hollers at him, but he simply waves his hands at her dismissively, before he remembers she is blind.

"To my room!" It's the only thing he can think of to holler back. He hopes she doesn't tackle him to the ground to stop him from accompanying Katara. Surely she knows that.

If she hears him, she pretends not to notice, scowling instead as she returns to her bedchamber. _I hope the wolves tear you to pieces you filthy firebender._

--------------

When he arrives at his room, he quickly pulls his white snow suit over his head and laces up his boots. _If I don't hurry, I won't catch her._ Soon he finishes and runs out towards the door, lighting a small flame on his palm to find his way. Fighting down a shiver, he laments not wearing an extra layer of clothes under his suit. Though he is vaguely familiar with the fortresses layout and had a general idea of where she might keep her rein-elk, he is completely unprepared for the sight he encounters.

Before him is Katara, mounted on an enormous blue-gray wolf, the likes he has never seen before. Her long, flowing hair dances with the wind as the snow tries to cut in. She is wearing the same light clothes she wore indoors yet, she seems unaffected by the frozen clime. The golden flame flickering in the palm of his hand reflects in her pale blue eyes, giving her beauty an ethereal quality.

"Is everything alright?" Her voice sound deeper than he remembers.

"Yes, everything is fine." Suddenly he feels like he is intruding. _Kira must be rubbing off on me._ She nods leaning in to whisper something into the ear of her mount before galloping off into the woods leaving him standing in dark, all alone.

"Katara," he screams at the top of his lungs before running off after her, but is suddenly encircled by a pack of polar-wolves, who are howling wildly. _Where did you come from?_ His blood turns to ice. If he doesn't prepare himself to firebend his way out of the circle, he will die.

Closing his eyes, he takes a cleansing breath trying to recreate the blue lightning that has eluded him all of his life. _Stupid Azula always made this look so easy._ He opens his eyes as his arm makes a fluid motion and stops. The wolves are now sitting and their howls are dying down. While their actions should make him feel better, they don't. Slowly he turns around, half expecting some snow demon to come and take his soul away. Little does he know he's almost right.

"Did you want to come along?" A soft voice asks him as she extends a small, claw-like hand. He takes it, hissing gently when her sharp nails dig into his skin, as she pulls him up behind her. _I should get this girl a pair of dragon-hide gloves_.

"I'm sorry about your hand." Gently she pulls it towards her, a cool, soothing tongue licking the blood off his hand; much like a wolf would with its cub. There is panic in his eyes, but he is too shocked to say anything as two blue eyes stare in bewilderment. _He's a virgin._

Conscious of her space, Katara pulls her lower body away from him to reassure him of her intentions, as she continues to nurse his wound. A warm feeling spreads through his body as he finds himself more aware of his proximity to her hips and thighs, but before he can object to her loving ministrations, he sees her transform the falling snow into a silver ribbon of water. Intrigued, he watches her heal his cuts painlessly.

"How…how did you do that?" Subconsciously his other hand comes up to the left side of his face as he frowns.

Katara sees his small gesture and quickly looks away, pretending not to notice. "Some waterbenders have healing abilities. I happen to be one of them." _It's not something I like to talk about._

He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly shuts it when the wolf they're on dashes off into the snow drifts and he is forced to hold on to the cold, human replica in front of him. They ride off into the cold darkness in silence, listening to panting of the wolf pack running besides them and the snowy winds rushing past them. The longer they ride, the colder he gets, raising his body temperature to avoid freezing, while the waterbender seems unconcerned.

Warm hands clench the sides of her light parka, tightening whenever she takes a corner too quickly for his liking, but his chest maintains a respectful distance from her back at all times. The last thing he wants is another bumbling advance from this icy, ill conceived image of a flesh and blood woman. _Things aren't so awkward anymore, and I'd like to keep it that way._

While it is nice to feel his warm hands on her body, they do little to lift her spirits. They are just another cruel reminder of what she will never be, of her humiliation the first night they met. Part of her wishes to turn him out into the cold for what he's done, but she can't. He is willing to stay and keep her company, something no one else has offered before. How long he will stay, she doesn't know, but she is content to enjoy the companionship of a human.

They return much earlier than sunrise exclusively on his account. At some point Zuko's shivering becomes too violent to hide from the somnambulist rider, making her cut the ride short to make sure he doesn't die on her. Despite his harsh words and violent objections, she even half carries him back to his room, helping him get into dry clothes and tucking him into his bed, much like his mother used to when he was younger. No words are spoken by her, no pitiful attempts of seduction are made; she simply helps him get into bed like a peer would. It has been a long time since Zuko has felt the disinterested hand of friendship, which he seems incapable of recognizing, though he sleeps peacefully through the night because of it.

---------------

"I see you're back early mistress." Katara can't see Kira's face but she can tell she's not happy.

"Yes Kira. He got cold." The green-eyed servant turns to face her, scoffing at the firebender's weakness.

"Some sort of guard that warm bodied wimp is going to make." Katara grins. She can tell it's taking a lot of self control for Kira not to break into a tirade on the subject of their new guest. But she does bring up a valid point.

A dark looks radiates from two icy blue eyes. "You're right; he would not make a good guard. But that's not why he's here." _Please don't ask me why he's here._

"Then why is he here mistress?" The pleading expression on Kira's face softens Katara's gaze, as she thinks of how to explain to her guardian the devastating loneliness that she would feel if he left.

She can think of no way to explain her shameful weakness to her servant and says the first thing that pops into her head. "Because he's nice to look at."

A pang of jealousy stabs Kira's heart, but she rolls her eyes to the back of her shaking head to hide it. Katara smiles at her gesture, knowing she cannot see or sense the angry, red scar on the left side of his face. In an attempt to change the subject, Kira's lady brings up the topic of food for both their guest and her. The rest of the night is spent talking about how to keep their guest occupied and unaware of Katara's feeding needs.

------------------------

The three agonizing weeks without seeing Katara are exacerbated by the constant verbal sparring matches with Kira, which may serve as tongue sharpening practice, but are still getting on his nerves. _It's like I never left Azula behind._ His task of grooming the riding wolves is not enough to keep him busy and he is tired of trying to read the scrolls in the fortress' library. Water Tribe script he finds, is even more ornate that that of the Fire Nation, and the subject matter lacks the excitement of conflict that his nation's history is replete with.

From time to time he contemplates asking for permission to go to the nearest village. He is dying for contact with people who are not as strange as these two women, though Katara, he decides, improves upon closer acquaintance. After eating a breakfast that was barely edible, for which he blames last night's screaming match with Kira, he decides to go explore the abandoned village surrounding them, but scraps his plan as the weather gets worse.

His body is growing restless with the lack of exercise and firebending practice he has been getting. Though the fort is made of stone, there is really no suitable location for his fire columns or amateur attempts at hurling lightning bolts. _If only she had a courtyard where I could train…_his thoughts are suddenly interrupted by a fragrant scent wafting through the air. _Katara._ Turning around, he smiles at the welcome sight.

There is mud smudged on her cheek and her hair is pulled back into a bun, with a few rebel tendrils softly framing her face. Blue eyes shine brightly as a small smile graces her lips. In a soft, sweet voice she calls to him. "Please, follow me. I have something to show you." Without thinking much about it, he follows her, like a small child would its mother.

Dark, cold hallways twist and turn before them, and he walks next to the lady, holding a flame in his hand to light their way. After a few minutes of walking through what he thinks spiritual limbo will be like, he stops. _This can't be right, what if she is just trying to seduce me like the last time; what am I supposed to do?_

Sensing his uneasiness she turns to him, a smile still on her lips. "We made something for you. It must be hard for you to keep busy so we thought you might like this." Taking a few more steps, she points to a heavy earthen door with a strange carving on it. "Here," she walks before him, opening the door in an attempt to put him at ease. "If you will just light the lamps on the columns, you can see for yourself." Sparks of fire fly perfectly hitting their targets.

Tall vaulted ceilings, covered in thin, panes of ice rest on massive stone-like pillars sprouting from the earthen floor. It is the perfect training area. The massive colonnades look like they'd resist a fire bolt from Agni himself. In the distance, a scowling Kira bends earth to add the finishing touches to the structure.

"I thought you might want to keep up your martial skills, if you wish to stay as my guard." Nervously, she fidgets around with her sleeve, unsure if he'll accept the gift they've worked so hard on.

"Thank you. I suppose this is adequate." In all honesty he is floored by the intricacy of the design, but reminds himself it is just a bad replica of the real stone masonry of his home.

Though hurt, Katara says nothing. For three weeks now, Kira has helped her with the Herculean task of moving tons of ice to bend earth and rock from the bowels of the earth. That alone took a week and a half. The mixing of the water and earth to form the mud for the bricks took a few days and the heating and freezing process to ensure their hardness, even longer. In the end, the actual structure had been built by their combined bending efforts over the last four days, leaving them completely exhausted, and disappointed. Secretly Katara had hoped he would be made happy by the gift, but he was not.

"You're welcome." She lowers her gaze, trying to hide the wound he has just dealt her. "You are free to enter this place whenever you wish. It is exclusively for your use. Now if you'll excuse me, I would like to go clean up." Bowing lowly, she glides to the exit followed closely by her guard, who lovingly places an arm around her shoulder while whispering something in her ear.

Looking up, he can see the ferocity of the storm barraging the ice panes. _If it wasn't because of her, I would be out there freezing to death._ A feeling of shame washes over him, nearly drowning him in remorse. _Why am I always so mean to her, especially whenever she tries to do something nice for me?_ It is a pattern that has been tainting every interaction with his benefactor, but he cannot seem to soften his words towards her, even though she has given him no reason to distrust her since the night of her pathetic attempt at seduction.

In his bed his lies awake, hurt, blue eyes chasing off whatever sleep is trying to carry him away. Images of scantily clad women "mysteriously" appearing in his room with promises of undying love turn his stomach. Being a prince meant having to suffer the banal attention of women looking to be the concubine or wife of the next Fire Lord. His golden princely crown blinded all women to who he was, causing them to focus on what he was. Only when his father gave them that hideous scar did the incessant torrent of carnal offers cease to a trickle. _No one has ever wanted me for me, even Katara, though what she wants me for, I haven't been able to figure out._ The guilt in his chest steals his breath by crushing his lungs, but he'll deal with it in the morning, and closing his eyes tightly, he hopes to keep Katara's sorrowful eyes away.

-------------------

Sitting before the fire, Katara stares at the dancing flames in the fireplace. It is a pathetic attempt at imitating a basic human ritual. Kira sits behind her, lovingly brushing her lady's soft, damp hair. A frown creeps on her lips as she inhales her mistress' scent. _Why can't your breathing pick up for me like it does for him?_ _Can't you see he doesn't care for you like I do, want you like I do._

"Mistress," a tanned hand gently pulls a small tendril from the front of her face, tucking it behind her ear, "How long do you think he'll stay?"

A soft sigh escapes her lips. "I don't know." In spite of tonight's indifference to her gift, she still hopes he'll stay with her forever but knows better. "Probably not long, Kira." Katara does not need to turn around to see the maiden's toothy grin.

In a tight embrace two figures melt into one, while the low firelight flickers in the fireplace, casting menacing shadows on the stone cold walls, revealing their essence. Each woman is lost in thought, finding comfort for their heartaches in each others arms. Not until the sunrise is their communion broken when Katara must return to the confines of her coffin and Kira to her torturous task of caring for the ungrateful thief of her mistress' affection.

----------------------

A full month drags by before he sees Katara again. Every morning he rises with the sun to practice his bending in the courtyard, unable to clear his mind from his bitter words to her on that night. Every evening he stays up later and later hoping to catch a glimpse of her, well aware of the mistress' nocturnal schedule. Though he nearly collapses from exhaustion, he longs to see her, if only to tell her how grateful he truly is for her consideration, but she is nowhere to be found. He even dares breach the subject with Kira, who nearly rips his lips off at the question, denying him an answer. It is not until a messenger arrives looking for the blue eyed revenant, that he finally lays eyes upon her sorrowful form.

Early in the afternoon, as Zuko is finishing his lunch, when a loud racket of wolf howls interrupts his meal. Immediately he leaps to attention, grabbing his swords before heading off to the main entrance, only to find a scowling Kira, muttering curses under her breath, as she helps a handsome young man out of his parka. The firebender is shocked at the ease with which Kira has allowed such a stranger access to their home. _Some guard she is._

"You know the mistress is asleep now Jet, so why are you bothering us at this hour?" The growling girl, violently balls up his parka before defiantly throwing it onto the floor by the entrance.

Eyeing his rumpled parka with some displeasure, the young man tauntingly answers, "Because there's nothing better than annoying the life out of you for a couple of hours until I see the mistress' shining blue eyes."

None to gently, Kira grabs brown eyed man by the scruff of the shirt, yanking him into a large room Zuko has only seen in passing. Golden eyes narrow at brown, while Jet stares at him in confusion.

"Hey Kira," with a small shove he is thrown into an old Earth Kingdom chair by the green eyed governess. "Who is this guy?" A perfectly manicured hand points at a scruffy prince.

Not giving Kira chance to emasculate him in front of the new arrival, he decides to take the initiative. "My name is Zuko. I am Mistress Katara's personal guard. What business do you have with her?"

Jet looks at him, with a serious expression on his face, right before exploding into a fit of laughter which collapses him to the floor. "I am Mistress Katara's personal guard, what business do you have with her," he repeats amidst belly laughs as Kira stands there and snickers. "He must be new." Wiping a tear from his eye, he turns to the servant. "How long has she had him?"

"A little over two months." The banished prince can feel her blank stare penetrating the back of his head.

"Well Zuko, it is nice to meet you. I am Jet, heir to the Rurik clan of lycans." A calloused tan hand is extended to the prince, which the young man takes into his pale one, weary of this man's intentions. "I am sorry I laughed at you, but really Zuko, you need to relax a little. The mistress is well taken care of, you need not worry."

Still eyeing him suspiciously, Zuko releases his hand. "Katara's safety is my responsibility, not yours, so I will do what I see fit to keep her safe." _And I don't like that you've introduced yourself as a lycan, whatever that means._

There is an awkward moment of silence before Jet decides this upstart isn't worth the effort. "Right, you do that," the brown eyed man mocks before turning his banter to an irritated Kira. Both ignore him until she rises.

--------------------

Almost as soon as the sun sets, a lithe figure, dressed in blue is seen gliding down the gray stone hall. A broad smile is plastered on her face in recognition of the scent of her beloved friend. Whatever hurt she retained from Zuko's rejection of her gift, sublimates into the frigid air around her. "Jet!" She screams as she runs into his open arms, careful not to let her hands come into contact with his body. The brown eyed man picks her up spinning her around several times until she squeaks at him to stop.

She laughs. It is a sound Zuko has never heard cross the toothy gate of her lips, but is melodious, like the song of a fire-sparrow. Pale pink lips smile, revealing razor sharp canines, but unlike the first night he saw her, they no longer repulse or startle him. They are simply a part of who she is, along with her pointed claws and odd sleeping habits. He can't help but feel a small pang of jealousy that she has been so distracted by the new arrival, she has yet to greet him. _She's never ignored me like this before._

The smile falls off of her lips as she sees the serious young man standing at attention by the chair. "Um Jet, this is…"

"I know who he is Katara. We've been introduced." His tanned arm wraps itself around her diminutive waist pulling her closer towards him.

_Why do you let him hold you like that Katara? Is he one of the many men who've gotten lost and found their way to your room?_ Golden eyes stare intently into blue, making her look away.

"So Jet, are you hungry?" She pulls away from his arm and starts walking towards the dining room.

"Ravenous." Two sharp canines flicker in the dim light of the room as he smiles, making Zuko nervous.

It doesn't matter that Katara has similar orthodontic problems, there is something wrong with this man, and he will not let him out of his sight, even if he has to sleep outside his bedroom door, or Katara's.

The entire night, Katara avoids looking at or speaking to Zuko, unless she has to, leaving it up to Jet to include him in their conversations. For the first time since he stumbled upon her door, she feels like he is an intruder. _Why doesn't he just go to bed?_ It is unfortunate, that this night out of all the others, Zuko chooses to let his gaze linger on the waterbender.

A few hours before sunrise, Jet finally discloses the reason for his visit. It is clan business that Katara has to mediate, but the details he will not discuss in front of the 'help.' The crownless prince uses all of his self control not to throw a fire ball at the lycan heir, at least in his mistress' presence. It takes all of his self control in addition to a killer glare from Kira, not to tackle him to the ground, when the shameless dirt-bag implies he wants to talk to Katara in the privacy of her bedroom, and she acquiesces.

A fuming Zuko sees them disappear down the hall in the direction of her room to "discuss" private matters. _How can she trust him? He'll just try to take advantage of her. _Though he knows she is not ignorant of carnal knowledge and will most likely be consensual in nature. He breathes deeply, banishing all thoughts of Katara wrapping herself around this Jet fellow from his mind. _I need to get some sleep._ On his way to his bedroom, he hears soft wailing coming from the kitchen and goes to investigate, surprised by what he finds.

"What do you want sparky?" Unblinking green eyes turn to face him, startling him.

"I just heard a…are you alright?" _Why am I asking you this?_

"Yes. I'm fine!" She snarls at him revealing two sharp canines, much like Jet's.

_Spirits, does everyone have issues with orthodontia?_ "You're a lycan too?"

A scarred prince quickly walks out of the kitchen ducking as the servant hurls dishes at his head. _I may not know what a lycan is, but if Kira is one, I don't think I'm going to like it._

------------------

The morning sun's penetrating rays rouse Zuko from his light slumber. When he reaches the kitchen, he finds Jet is already dressed, devouring a bowl of sweet arctic rabbit meat. The firebender mumbles a greeting to the brown eyed lycan and sits to eat a bowl of jook. As he looks with disgust at the other man's eating habits, he notices a deep gash at the base of his neck which he is trying to hide with the collar of his shirt. It does not seem to bother him much, but moves to cover it further with his collar, clearly annoyed that Zuko is staring at it.

_Something's not right._ The golden eyed man excuses himself from the table nearly breaks into a run heading towards Katara's room. The wound on Jet's neck is indicative of a struggle and he must make sure Katara is well. But once he gets to her door he loses all courage, dumbly standing there as if waiting for the door to develop sentience and let him in until he hears a strange, muffled sound. _Is she crying?_

When he walks through the threshold his heart skips a beat. She sits on her bed, facing away from him, revealing deep channels of carved flesh trickling with blood, staining the furs that surround her. When she turns to face him, he can see similar scratches on her arms and several bite marks at the base of her neck and near her breasts. The white silk shift she is wearing is in tatters, saturated in bright red blood. Her eyes look red from weeping.

"Did you need something?" Her voice rings hollow in his ears as stands there, unable to move, until he looks into her sad blue eyes.

_I knew I was wrong to trust him. _In anger he spits out fire instead of cursing before his mistress. _I should have stopped him!_ Falling to his knees before her, as though she were an ancient idol bathed in sacrificial blood, he looks at her body, horrified by the damage the filthy beast has inflicted on her.

"I'm going to call Kira to tend to your wounds, while I go kill that…"

"Please don't." Her lower lip is trembling as she sees murderous fire in his eyes. "He didn't mean to. That's just who he is."

"A lycan?! So what the hell does that mean, a rabid dog, because it certainly looks like one attacked you! Really Katara, you should be more selective about who you take into your bed. Are you so desperate?" She looks away in shame as he bites his tongue.

_It's good to know how little you think of me. _"You don't have to be so concerned." Her voice chills his blood, snapping him out of his anger. "I can heal these with some water."

Nodding, he pulls a basin from her dresser as he runs off to the adjacent room where he opens a window and scoops up some fresh fallen snow, before returning to Katara. Quickly she turns the snow to a silver ribbon of water as she starts to heal her injuries. Zuko remains kneeled before her, transfixed by her graceful bending. The only part she cannot reach is her back, which Zuko helps her with.

With his bare hands he heats the remaining water in the basin and cleans off the deep gashes running down her back. His touch is warm and gentle, his apology for such piercing words, and it sends shivers down her spine. She tries not to gasp when he presses a bit too hard, but when she does, she can almost hear him mutter "I'm sorry" under his breath.

Her cool, unmarred flesh is enticing, even with the deep wounds. He tries not to think about her offer on their first meeting, but it is hard not to. Willing his eyes to stay on the crimson channels down her back, he catches himself staring at her voluptuous curves from time to time, mentally cursing himself. _She's in enough discomfort now to have to suffer your pathetic ogling._

"I hope you don't mind me asking Katara but, what happened?" A warm hand brushes the back of her neck as it removes a soft, wavy mass of chestnut colored hair, sending a spark of electricity through her body.

Shifting a little on the bed, to hide the sensation, she mindlessly begins to smooth the furs. "It's really not your concern Zuko."

"When your safety is involved, it is my concern Katara." She looks at him momentarily before picking imaginary dirt out of her claws.

"It doesn't matter. The next time he comes…" Angrily, zuko rises off the floor hovering over the petite waterbender.

"Excuse me Katara, but there won't be a next time, not for that savage." Bloodied water runs through his fingers as he squeezes the cloth in his fist.

"You will not call him that. I already told you, it's not his fault." Two azure eyes brimming with tears looks at him accusingly.

The irate firebender takes a deep breath to calm him before kneeling to her eyelevel. "Katara, I will protect you from him. That's all I have to earn my keep, please let me fulfill my duty."

Quietly she nods, sitting in silence as Zuko finishes cleaning her wounds which don't look as bad as they did before. _If only firebenders could heal like she does_. Without realizing it, he is stroking her cool back with his fingers, as she shivers at his touch, stopping only when she speaks.

"Jet will accompany me to the Rurik Den by the next new moon." Two pale fists clench at the sound of the man's name. "You are free to come along, if you wish." He nods silently as he walks through the door, determined to learn about lycans and how to kill them.

-------------------

A/n

wails incessantly I poked at this for a while and can't seem to make it any better. Any comments or questions are welcome.

I am SO sorry FOG!


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